


Here's to you

by sazzlette (notallbees)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Exhibitionism, F/M, Horny Teenagers, Marauders' Era, Masturbation, Unrequited Crush, Voyeurism, the grim seventies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 08:46:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14445648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notallbees/pseuds/sazzlette
Summary: While their friends are lusting after various members of their class, Remus and Sirius have set their sights a little higher.





	Here's to you

**Author's Note:**

> Okay I'm done with the ancient reposts, I promise.
> 
>  
> 
> Or do I?

**Remus**   
  
  
"Not even been here a day—"   
  
"Yes, Poppy, but it wasn't his fault. He was pushed."   
  
"Well, you just make sure those two boys get what's coming to them."   
  
"Black and Potter? Don't you worry, I've got my eye on those two."   
  
Remus is only half listening as he lies on the bed with his arm cradled to his chest, but he recognises the second voice as his new Head of House, Professor McGonagall. His arm still hurts but it's beginning to wear off a little now, which he really hopes doesn't mean he's broken anything. Professor McGonagall assured him that if he had then the nurse would be able to fix it in the blink of an eye, but he doesn't want to have to tell his parents he broke his arm on the first day.    
  
Someone draws close and he looks up to see a friendly-looking witch leaning over him and frowning. She pulls her hair up into a ponytail and smoothes down the front of her robes.    
  
"Name?"   
  
"Lupin," he says quickly. "Remus Lupin."   
  
"Well then, Mister Lupin," she says, rolling up her sleeves. "Let's have a look at you."   
  
Carefully, she helps him sit up and shrug off his robes, sliding the sleeve off his damaged arm. Slowly she presses her fingers along the length of his arm, until she reaches mid forearm and he gasps suddenly.    
  
"Sorry," he breathes. "It hurts."   
  
"For heaven's sake don't apologise, Mister Lupin. You've got a broken arm. Most boys your age would be in tears."   
  
"I'm used to pain," mutters Remus, keeping his eyes firmly downcast.    
  
"Get into fights a lot?" she asks, sounding somewhat disapproving. "You don't look the sort."   
  
"Oh, no. I mean I'm not, but—"   
  
"Poppy?"   
  
It's Professor McGonagall again, and they both turn to face her. She steps forward and whispers something in the nurse's ear. Remus hears the word 'werewolf' and blushes.    
  
"Thank you, Minerva. I shall see you in the morning."    
  
For a moment after she leaves, there is silence, and then the nurse puts a finger under Remus' chin and tilts his face up gently. "Now," she says softly. "I'm just going to use a healing spell to fix this fracture. It might feel a little uncomfortable, but it will be over quickly, alright?"   
  
Remus nods. "Alright."   
  
\--   
  
It's their third Christmas and the four boys are spending it together at Hogwarts. After the present-opening and turkey-eating and snowball fights, they sit on Peter's bed, huddled into their blankets to keep warm. Sirius is stretched out cat-like on the bedcover and James is sprawled across his legs, while Remus is tucked away in one corner.    
  
"Well, who would you snog?" asks Sirius, moving his legs and upsetting James.    
  
"Evans, obviously," says James, punching him. Sirius rolls his eyes and turns to Peter.   
  
"What about you then?"   
  
Peter blushes. "Holly Carter."   
  
"Her? But Pete, she's fat!"   
  
"I think she's nice," mumbles Peter, shuffling down further under his quilt.   
  
"What about you, Moony?" asks James, throwing a pillow at him.   
  
"Madam Pomfrey," says Remus, and then blushes even more crimson than Peter when he realises he's spoken aloud. A chorus of jeers and whistles follow this revealing, even from Peter, who has taken his reprieve in Remus' embarrassment.    
  
"Does she give you special treatment?" asks Sirius, laughing.    
  
"I bet she offers to scrub his bedpan for him."   
  
"Maybe he likes nurses' uniforms," suggests Peter tentatively, and looks relieved when Sirius and James both collapse with laughter.    
  
Remus, overcome with shame, flees to the bathroom, the boyish giggling following him until he slams the door shut behind him. He can tell he's never going to live  _ that _  one down.   
  
\--   
  
It's only a few weeks into fifth year, and Remus has had a particularly bad full moon. He didn't even wake up when Madam Pomfrey came to fetch him from the shack. Slowly he opens his eyes, and then fervently wishes he hadn't bothered. There doesn't seem to be an inch of him that doesn't hurt, and he must have a gash or something on his right hip because it hurts like buggery.    
  
"Ah, good morning, Mister Lupin," says Madam Pomfrey brightly, dragging aside the curtain and smiling broadly at him.   
  
"Good morning," he says croakily. "What time is it?"   
  
"Half past eleven, but don't think you're going anywhere in that state," she says sharply as he tries to sit up. "You'll have to get your notes off your friends."   
  
Remus sighs and slumps back on the pillows, secretly grateful for an excuse to miss Potions. "State?" he asks, as she bustles around his bed, measuring out potions and such.   
  
"Practically tore yourself to pieces last night." She doesn't turn to face him, just continues with her duties. "I'm going to need you to get undressed for me," she says, bending over to pick up a pillow he must have knocked onto the floor. As she does so her robe gapes forwards and Remus gets a rather generous eyeful.  _ Oh no _ , he thinks desperately, trying to think about cold showers and Professor Binns.    
  
"Come on, chop chop," she says briskly, reaching for the waistband of his trousers. "No need for bashfulness, Mister Lupin. It's nothing I haven’t seen bef—"   
  
She pauses, and Remus shuts his eyes and tries to will the floor to swallow him up.   
  
"Why don't I just leave you alone for a couple of minutes?" she mutters quickly, tucking her wand into her pocket and hurrying away. She pulls the curtain closed behind her and Remus groans and drops his face into his hands.    
  
\--   
  
"It could have been worse," says James later in an attempt to console Remus, after he has foolishly given in and told them about the disaster earlier that day. "I mean, it could have happened  _ after _  she started touching you. Then you'd have looked like a right pervert."   
  
"S'right," puts in Sirius. "This way it's just hormones, isn't it? Bet you could just pass it off as full moon stuff."   
  
"After all, you always wank up a storm when it's coming up."   
  
"Shut up, Peter."   
  
\--   
  
The next couple of full moons are fine. Safe. He doesn't hurt himself too badly and so not too much touching is required on Madam Pomfrey's part. The following month however, Remus wakes up with scratches all over again. Groaning, he wonders if he can get away with sneaking off before Madam Pomfrey comes in, but there's no way he'll make it all the way back to Gryffindor Tower like this. So instead he's going to have to put up with her rubbing murtlap essence all over him. He doesn't understand why it's suddenly started getting to him. After all, he's never had this problem before. Hormones.   
  
"Pyjamas off then, Mister Lupin," says Madam Pomfrey, sweeping suddenly into his cubicle.    
  
Remus tries to prolong the undressing as much as possible, deliberately fumbling with the buttons and getting his feet caught in the legs of his pyjama bottoms.    
  
"Come on now," she says, chiding him gently. "We haven't got all day."   
  
Nodding, Remus shimmies out of his pyjamas and lies down on the bed, closing his eyes and willing himself not to behave like an idiot. Quickly, methodically, she starts to massage the ointment into his skin, starting at his shoulders and sliding her hands down over his chest. It's quite relaxing, really. Very soothing. Hardly arousing at all, in fact.   
  
"Roll onto your side."   
  
Remus obeys, rolling onto his left side so that she can get to his back. There's a huge scratch right across the middle of it. Probably Sirius, that one. The bastard. She smoothes her hands over his back and then Remus twitches as her fingers run along his sides.   
  
"Sorry," he mutters. "Ticklish."   
  
She takes her hands away for a moment and then slides them down along the backs of his thighs. Remus gasps when she brushes across the backs of his knees, and suddenly realises maybe this  _ is _  affecting him after all.    
  
"All done," she says suddenly, standing up. "You may get dressed now."   
  
Remus nods, but he doesn’t move until she's gathered up her things and shuffled out of the cubicle once more. When the coast is clear, he rolls onto his back with his eyes screwed shut, longing desperately for a very cold shower. It doesn't seem to help matters. Tentatively, he rests his hand on his hip. The world doesn't implode, so he edges his fingers in a little further. The door to the infirmary opens and then creaks slowly closed, and the curtains around his bed flutter slightly. Slowly, Remus curls his fingers around his cock.   
  
The door opens again and he can hear Madam Pomfrey's footsteps as she walks across the room and into her office. Holding his breath, he starts to move his hand, keeping absolutely silent as he strains to hear any noise. Someone laughs in the corridor outside and he can hear Madam Pomfrey moving bottles around. He jerks his wrist a little faster, turning his face into the pillow to hide a moan.   
  
Footsteps echo across the floor again but Remus can't stop, not now. He can hear the sound of pillows being plumped up, potion bottles carefully arranged. He moans again, bites down on the pillow to stifle the sound. And there the footsteps again. But he's so close, so-   
  
"Mister Lupin, is everything alright?"   
  
"Yes!" he chokes out breathlessly. "Just fine!"   
  
"Are you sure you don't need a hand?"   
  
"No!" he says desperately. "I mean yes, I'm sure. Thank you!"   
  
"Come on then. We've got to get you off. Your teachers will be waiting."   
  
Remus stuffs his fist in his mouth and groans as he comes, hard. Well, that was interesting.   
  
\--   
  
"But why Madam Pomfrey?" asks James, and Remus glares and shushes him.    
  
"Not so loud, somebody might hear you!"   
  
"Come on, Moony. Who's going to care if you've got the hots for the school nurse?"   
  
Remus groans and buries his head in his arms. "I'm doomed," he says vaguely, voice muffled by his jumper.    
  
James glances around for a moment, and then he leans in so that his mouth is right by Remus' ear. "It's not the nurse uniform is it?" he whispers.   
  
"James! For the love of—no it is  _ not _  the sodding uniform."    
  
"Well then what?"   
  
Remus sits up and sighs. "It's everything. It's the way she makes me feel important, but not different. It's the way she walks. The way she rubs murtlap essence on—"   
  
"Easy tiger."   
  
"Er, sorry," mumbles Remus, blushing. "I can't help it, Prongs. Even just the sound of those curtain hooks swishing along the rail. It's practically Pavlovian."   
  
James nods wisely. "Yeah I get that way with Pavlova too. Always have to leave the table when my mum makes it for dinner parties."   
  
"… What?"   
  
"What do you mean, what?"   
  
"You get aroused by Pavlova?"   
  
"Well yeah, you just said—"   
  
"No, James. I said my reaction was Pavlovian. You know, Pavlov's dogs?"   
  
James stares at him blankly. Remus sighs.   
  
"Never mind. You're a freak of nature."   
  
"I am not!" says James indignantly, hitting Remus with his textbook.    
  
"James, you get off on dessert."   
  
"Not on it, never on it."   
  
"Please stop talking."   
  
\--   
  
It's the first full moon of the new year. Their last full term at Hogwarts. When Remus wakes up it's late, but for a moment he thinks it's still night time. There's a frantic storm raging outside, turning the sky black all around the castle. He lies there for a few minutes, listening to the distant rumble of thunder. The storm is so loud that he doesn't hear Madam Pomfrey approaching, and so he's surprised when she pulls back the curtain around his bed and slips inside.    
  
"Good morning, Mister Lupin."   
  
"Good morning."   
  
She lays the back of her hand on his forehead for a moment, and holds his wrist with her other hand. Remus tries hard not to let his pulse rocket out of control, just because she's touching him. He's seventeen for heaven's sake. She smells like fresh laundry and pumpkin juice, and Remus sighs and closes his eyes again.    
  
After a moment Madam Pomfrey releases him and reaches over to take a bottle out of the cabinet beside his bed, but he opens his eyes when he hears the shatter of glass on the tiled floor.    
  
"Must have slipped through my fingers," she says vaguely, staring at her feet. Remus looks up at her and is shocked to see tears rolling down her cheeks.    
  
Carefully, he sits up and shuffles to the edge of the bed. He aches all over and he winces as pain tears through his right side.    
  
"Madam Pomfrey?"    
  
"I'm sorry," she says thickly. "Sorry, Mister Lupin. Just, one moment." She pulls a handkerchief out of her pocket and fumbles with it for a moment.    
  
"Here," says Remus, taking it out of her hand and patting the bed beside him. "Let me."   
  
She sinks gratefully onto the bed and Remus unfolds the handkerchief and carefully wipes at her cheeks with it. "There now," he says, smiling, because that's what his mother always used to say to him.    
  
"I'm so sorry," she whispers again. "I had a letter, you see, and it's upset me a little. I'll just get your potion for you."   
  
"Wait."   
  
"Mister Lupin—"   
  
"Just call me Remus." He lays his hand over hers on the cover.   
  
"Remus," she says gently. "Thank you."   
  
\--   
  
It's the last day of term, and everyone has been bidding tearful farewells to one another. Sirius has even managed to snog Professor McGonagall. Remus isn't quite sure who was more surprised at his success. And well, thinks Remus. If Sirius can do it, so can he. Of course, after excusing himself from the common room and starting his mad dash towards the infirmary, his logic starts to fall apart as he realises Sirius is far braver than him, and far more of an idiot. Therefore this sort of thing is easier to laugh off.   
  
This is not the sort of thing Remus Lupins go around doing.    
  
Nevertheless, he somehow finds himself at the doors to the infirmary, out of breath from taking the last staircase three steps at a time. He leans against the wall for a moment to catch his breath, but at that moment the door opens and Madam Pomfrey steps out. She's abandoned her usual uniform and is wearing a light summer robe.    
  
"Nrgk," says Remus.   
  
"Mister Lupin? What's the matter? You're not ill, surely."   
  
Remus shakes his head, finding his nerve seems to have curled up and died, along with his ability to form coherent sentences.    
  
"Sirius—" he says vaguely.   
  
"Is something wrong with Mister Black?"   
  
"No. But he—with Professor McGonagall—"   
  
Deciding he's fighting a losing battle, Remus shuts up and lunges forward, grabbing Madam Pomfrey by her upper arms and kissing her soundly. It only lasts a few moments, and then Remus pulls away, blushing furiously.   
  
"Sorry," he says quickly. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that."   
  
"Remus."   
  
"—was completely out of order and I know I had know right to—"   
  
"Remus!"   
  
Smiling, Madam Pomfrey cups his cheek and kisses him gently. "That was very sweet of you. Thank you."   
  
"Oh. That's quite alright."   
  
"You're a lovely young man, Remus, but it would be highly inappropriate. You're still—"   
  
"I'm not a student any more!"   
  
"—much younger than me."   
  
"Oh."   
  
She winks. "You know, I work at St. Mungos over the summer. Perhaps I'll see you."   
  
Remus is unusually quiet on the train back to London. The other boys don't ask him about it, they assume he's sad to leave. He doesn't tell them he's thinking about the next full moon.    
  
\--   
  
**Sirius**   
  
  
"I've a mind to put you back on that train and send you straight home to your parents!"   
  
Sirius and James exchange frightened looks. It seems to Sirius that all he had left was to attempt to charm his way out of it. After all, it always worked with his mother.    
  
"Do you know who I am?" he drawls, and instantly regrets it.   
  
"Don't you take that tone with me, young man! And I know  _ exactly _  who you are, Sirius Black. All the more reason you will be serving detention with me for the next two weeks. And that goes for you as well, Mister Potter. I don't know what you thought you were both doing, fighting like that in the corridor. On your first day! And now thanks to you a young boy is having to spend his first day in a new school having his broken arm patched up."   
  
"We're sorry," says James quietly, hanging his head.   
  
"As well you should be!"   
  
"Will he be alright?"   
  
"Yes, Mister Potter, he will be just fine. But I expect you both to visit him tomorrow and apologise for your outrageous behaviour. This is hardly the best way to start a friendship. And don't look at me like that. You'll all three be sharing a room for the next seven years, so you had better get this sorted out right away, hadn't you?"   
  
"Yes, Professor."   
  
"Mister Black?"   
  
"Yes, Professor."   
  
"Good, now run along, before I change my mind and make it three weeks."   
  
\--   
  
The two boys have fallen into an odd sort of companionship since having left Professor McGonagall's office. Their earlier disagreement is all but forgotten in the face of sharing detention together.    
  
"She's a bit of a dragon, isn't she?" says Sirius, flopping onto one of the four posters in the room.    
  
James shrugs. "Mum said she's alright once you get to know her. Just a bit strict."   
  
"Well we did break his arm, I suppose," says Sirius, not sounding in the least bit sorry. "What did he say his name was again?"   
  
"Lupin, I think. I don't know, he was very quiet."   
  
"What happened to the other one? Petticoat or something?"   
  
"Think he's in the bathroom."   
  
"Hmm."   
  
"D'you follow Quidditch?"   
  
Sirius pouts. "My parents think it's for hooligans."   
  
"Get lost! Quidditch is the best thing in the entire world!"   
  
"That must make you a hooligan then," says Sirius, grinning.    
  
James laughs. "Must do."   
  
\--   
  
It is, perhaps, one of the most outrageous things they've done. Which is saying a lot. Finding their way into the laundry room and ransacking the teacher's clothes until they found McGonagall's.    
  
"Bet she wears tartan knickers."   
  
"Shut up, Prongs. Of course she doesn't."   
  
"Honestly, you look for the tartan, then we'll know it's hers."   
  
"I bet Slughorn would wear tartan. You wouldn't want to get his by mistake, would you?"   
  
"Thanks for that image, Padfoot."   
  
"Piss off. Help me look."   
  
They pick their way amongst the piles of laundry, shoving one another half-heartedly and trying not to laugh. Eventually they find a separate area where the clothes are labelled for the staff, and spend a minute dancing triumphantly around the tables. Professor McGonagall's clothing proves fairly easy to locate, and after sharing a solidarity handshake, they go in. For a long moment they stare in utter disbelief at what's before them. Eventually, James takes his glasses off and slowly wipes them clean on his t-shirt. When he puts them back on finally, he nudges Sirius with his elbow and nods towards the box of clothing.    
  
"Well, you were right about the knickers not being tartan."   
  
Sirius is still staring, unable to tear his gaze away. "I don't believe it. Prongs, is that really what I think it is?"   
  
"I think it might be."   
  
"Could it possibly be that the fair and virtuous McGoogles owns a tartan corset!?" mutters Sirius reverently, reaching out one hand and  _ almost _  touching it.    
  
"Are we taking it then?" asks James, sounding bored. He's looking around at the students' clothing. Probably thinking of going after Evans' undies. Sirius thumps him on the arm.    
  
"Are you mad!? She'd notice! And besides, I cannot rob my sweet Minerva of her worldly goods."   
  
"I thought we were here to steal her knickers?"   
  
"Oh, knickers don't count. They're merely trifles. She won't miss one pair of knickers." Sirius grabs a plain white pair and grins. "Come on, let's go."   
  
"I worry about you."   
  
"I knew you cared really."   
  
\--   
  
The classroom is warm and hazy in the height of summer, and most students are slumped lazily over their desks. Professor McGonagall doesn't seem to mind; for once they've abandoned practical work in favour of scribbling down notes. Not that there's an awful lot of scribbling going on. The heat is intense, even with the windows flung wide, and even Professor McGonagall has deigned to wear something less severe than her usual outfit.   
  
A note finds itself onto the desk in front of Sirius and he wakes himself up enough to read it.   
  
  
_ Is that a hint of bosom I see on our fair Professor? _ _   
_ _   
_ _ -Prongs _   
  
  
Glancing up, Sirius sees Professor McGonagall leaning over her desk with her head propped on one hand, and a daringly low cut robe adorning her. In truth it's nothing especially racy, but considering her usual wardrobe is conservative to say the least, she might as well be wearing a bikini.   
  
  
_ Methinks the lady doth protest too much. By which I mean you, you big girl. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ And why d'you need to sign your name? I'd recognise your chicken scratch handwriting anywhere. _   
  
  
Sirius grins at James as he chucks the note at him, and watches as his expression changes to annoyed when he reads it.  _ Tosser  _ mouths James, and grins. Nodding, Sirius turns away from him and watches Professor McGonagall again. She's fanning herself with a sheaf of parchment, blowing wisps of hair away from her face. Suddenly, Sirius becomes very aware of the fact that he has a somewhat ill-timed and rather distracting hard-on. He shifts slightly in his chair, but all this does is drag his underwear against his cock and make the situation somewhat worse. He puts his head in his hands, trying to think about cold showers and Professor Binns. Thankfully, it seems to be working, when unfortunately Professor McGonagall decides to interrupt.   
  
"Sirius Black!"   
  
He looks up sharply, and is somewhat disturbed to find certain parts of him are taking an eager interest in these new developments.   
  
"Yes, Professor?"   
  
"What's wrong, are you ill?"   
  
Sirius blinks. "Yes! Yes, shockingly ill. In fact I think I ought to go to see Madam Pomfrey, just in case."   
  
"I'll go with him!"   
  
"Shut up, Moony."   
  
"That's quite alright, Mister Lupin," says Professor McGonagall. "I'm sure Mister Black can find his own way. And no doubt someone will eventually find him if he happens to stagger into a wall due to his illness."   
  
Sirius nods, in agony and desperate to get away. "Yes, someone's bound to. I'll just be going."   
  
Frantically he shoves all his things in his bag, neglecting to put the lid on his ink bottle and ignoring the strange looks from James as he dashes for the door.   
  
Once outside he ducks along the corridor and into the nearest toilets. He drops his bag and shoves open the door of the nearest cubicle, struggling to undo his trousers as he collapses against the door and  _ oh yes finally _  gets his hand inside. He shoves his trousers down around his hips and wraps his hand around his cock, slamming his head back against the cubicle door and groaning loudly.   
  
"Padfoot? Is that you?"   
  
Sirius groans again. "Moony? What in buggery are you doing here?"   
  
"I came to see if you were alright. What are you doing?"   
  
"I'm wanking, what do you  _ think _  I'm doing?"   
  
Remus laughs. "I'm sorry you're not feeling well, Sirius. Do you want me to stay?"   
  
"No no," mutters Sirius, trying not to laugh. "I'll be alright, you go on."   
  
"I hope you feel better soon."   
  
"Oh, I will," whispers Sirius, shutting his eyes and continuing to pull himself off.    
  
\--   
  
Sirius has to admit. Even the knicker-stealing incident pales in comparison to this. He grins madly as he huddles tighter into the alcove he's sheltering in. James would kill him if he knew his cloak was being put to such purposes. Actually kill him. With bare hands and blood and guts all over the place.   
  
So it's a good thing he's never going to find out.   
  
They discovered the bathroom by accident one day. It's even nicer than the Prefect's bathroom, which they've been in several times because Remus is shockingly easy to bribe/threaten/cajole and otherwise take advantage of. It's taken Sirius a lot of trouble to convince Peeves to block the pipes in Professor McGonagall's private bathroom, and he's relying on the spirit's good faith not to turn him in. He's promised that he and James will come up with a way to  _ really _  piss off Filch, though. So for the moment he's safe.   
  
Footsteps echo along the corridor, and Sirius ducks out to see his glorious Minerva marching towards him in her tartan dressing gown, looking thoroughly pissed off. He slips off his shoes quickly, and as she mutters the password to open the door, he pads hurriedly across the passageway and slips through the door behind her.   
  
This is it, he realises. This is the moment that Sirius Black becomes a man. Almost bursting with the need to laugh aloud, he tiptoes as silently as he can over to a corner of the room, and props himself between a statue and a row of sinks with highly-polished taps. Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall is running a bath and slipping off her dressing gown to step into the steaming water. Sirius whimpers, pressing himself up against the statue. He's hard already, painfully so as he watches McGonagall slowly sink into the water, closing her eyes and leaning back against the side of the bath.    
  
For one dizzy moment he can't wait to get back and tell James about this, but then he remembers the whole maiming and dismembering thing and thinks perhaps he won't, after all. But perhaps he could tell Moony. After all he had that crush on Madam Pomfrey for a bit, didn't he? Then Sirius stops thinking about it, because there's Professor McGonagall all naked and wet and  _ oh god yes. _   
  
Slowly, trying not to make a sound, he ruts against the statue. The stone is rough and hard against his body, even through the layers of fabric, and it provides a fantastic friction as he rubs against it. Professor McGonagall starts humming to herself, and Sirius can almost hear that voice shouting his name in class. Frantic, he bites down on his sleeve to keep from moaning, and shutting his eyes he pictures her with her hand down his trousers, ordering him onto her desk and  _ Stop misbehaving, Sirius Black! _   
  
With a suppressed whine, Sirius comes all over the inside of his trousers, half remembering to hope that he hasn't got the cloak because then he might as well just drown himself now. It would be far more pleasant than what James would do to him.    
  
Grinning, he thinks perhaps he will tell James after all.   
  
\--   
  
It's their very last day of school. The last day they will roam Hogwarts' corridors. Sirius is fed up with all the girls hugging and crying onto one another, and has decided to do one last stupid, reckless thing before he leaves. Something that will leave his name being whispered for years in the Gryffindor common room. So after Professor McGonagall comes up to the common room to bid them all a quiet farewell, before the feast in the Great Hall. After she tells them that she's loved having them in her care, nightmarish though certain of them may have been at times. After Lily gets tearful and James hugs her, because she's finally stopped being an idiot and so has he (well, sort of).    
  
After all of that, Sirius marches right over to Professor McGonagall, takes her hand, and gives her the snog of her life. Right there, in front of the entirety of Gryffindor House.    
  
When he finally releases her, she frowns at him and fusses with her hair for a moment, anxiously trying to straighten her robes as she searches for something appropriate to say.   
  
"Mister Black," she says, and below the calm waters of her voice, everyone can sense that there are crocodiles.    
  
"Yes, Minerva?" he says sweetly, fluttering his eyelashes at her.    
  
"Mister Black, if you weren't technically still a student, I would hex your testicles off and feed them to the Giant Squid."   
  
"Ahh have a heart, Professor!" pipes up James, earning himself a punch from Lily. "That's hardly fair to the squid!"   
  
Amazingly, she laughs, and the rest of the crowd does too. And Sirius manages not to get himself slaughtered or hexed or anything particularly nasty at all. Remus disappears off soon after, but Peter reassures him that he's probably gone to bid a last goodbye to the library or something.    
  
"He'll probably be some time then," mutters James, shaking his head.    
  
They laugh, and Peter suggests going out to the lake one last time. Lily gets sniffly again at him saying that, but they go anyway. James and Sirius wrestle with one another under the elm tree, but they eventually stop when they roll too far and end up rolling into the shallows of the lake. For a moment they're children again, damp and laughing and not having to worry. And just for that moment, everything is just right.   
  
\--   
  
They're all loud and raucous on the train back to London. Well, Moony isn't, but Moony is usually quiet. James congratulates Sirius at least half a dozen times on being the first person in about a century to neck the head of house, and Lily stamps on his feet at least as many times.    
  
Sirius doesn't tell any of them he still has her underwear tucked into the bottom of his trunk. Nor does he tell them that he convinced her to sign it.


End file.
